


A Different Dimension (or Misadventures in Space Crime)

by am_fae



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: (sorta) - Freeform, Alternate Universe - Science Fiction, Alternate Universe - Space, Cyborgs, F/F, Fluff and Angst, Kidnapping, Past Child Abuse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-26
Updated: 2015-12-26
Packaged: 2018-05-09 10:00:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,823
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5535665
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/am_fae/pseuds/am_fae
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Natalya (formerly Arlovskaya-17-2934), a dancer-model cyborg turned space pirate, and associates Ivan and Katyusha decide to kidnap Lili Zwingli (the sister of the richest man in the galaxy) for money. This ends surprisingly well for everyone involved.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Different Dimension (or Misadventures in Space Crime)

**Author's Note:**

> Gift for aphtrashbin.tumblr.com as part of fuckyeahaphyuri's gift exchange!

**(i.) meet-cute (the intergalactic remix)**

_1700 – 44’N 58’W – Intersol Belt_

Natalya blinked. A fresh set of data appeared, scrolling across her vision.

_General Winter: Vogel at 200km. Hold your position._

She blinked again to clear the message. The lights of the capsule could already be seen, tiny from so far away, hurtling towards her along the highway. Ivan and Katyusha were looking towards it too. The AI must’ve sent them the same message. Natalya reached down to loosen the gun at her belt. Just a little longer. This job came with high stakes. Not your usual hit and run. No, this was the sister of the richest man in the galaxy.

Still, who named their ship “Bird”, even if it was in German?

Another message, red and flashing, disrupted her thoughts. _Thermal signature detected – Visual ID pending – Identity confirmed – LILI ZWINGLI_

Natalya took a deep breath.

 

**(ii.) this is not a drive-by**

Lili couldn’t reach her gun.

 _Scheisse._ The one time she was out on her own, packed with everything you’d ever need for a day trip to the far reaches of the galaxy, armed with years of self-defence training (made compulsory by Vash), and she couldn’t reach her gun.

Lili glared at the cyborg pinning her arm to the Intersol. Her attacker – a thickset man with hair like silvery wire – kept his face an implacable mask. Lili tried to keep her own expression controlled. Tried not to reveal her racing pulse. These days, without implants, humans could manage only a few minutes without atmosphere. 8 tops. Frost crept up her cheek. The space belt rushed past underneath her, dark matter channelled into one path that swept from one solar system to another. So fast it generated its own gravity. She tried not to think about it.

Another figure appeared at her left, muttering something into an earpiece.

Lili’s breath was getting frantic.

The cyborg holding her down took his boot off her arm, snagging her by the hand before she fell. He bundled her over his shoulder like she and her pink dress weighed nothing.

“Natalya!” The voice was deep, faintly grating, dangerous in the way the machine guns you see in museums are dangerous.

A girl stepped calmly out from behind the wreckage of the coach. She was pretty. More accurately, she looked like she’d been pretty once and then decided she was meant for greater things _._ The slender figure and violet eyes (that was the colour in style at court, wasn’t it?) remained. Lili couldn’t help but be interested.

‘Natalya’ turned on her heel in an instant and in the same motion, shot at a body slumped on the ground. Lili hadn’t even realized it had moved until the guard was returning fire and Natalya was sprinting towards them. Lili’s ears buzzed. Someone was rattling off numbers – the man holding her? The woman next to him? To her left, a battered rocket began to emerge from under the belt, dropping its rudimentary cloaking shields. Her oxygen must be running out by now. She tore her eyes away, up, up, until – Natalya’s striking eyes flicked back and forth, scrolling through info until they paused, locked to Lili’s like the laser beams from her gun.

 

**(iii.) the shovel talk**

“What are you planning?”

The Zwingli girl did seem to hold up well under pressure.

Natalya shrugged. _What was there to say?_ She leaned further into the hull of the ship, content to hear the churning of the gears and the rushing engine functioning as usual, mixed with the comforting whirring of her own heart.

At her side, Katyusha attempted a smile, a little too close to her pre-programmed customer service expression for anyone’s comfort.

Ivan didn’t even look up from the screens at the dash. “Natalya – any help with this?”

Natalya pushed herself off of the wall and made her way over. Once she’d put her mind to it, tech was ballet and ice skating. A series of programmed steps, sliding along set grooves into manoeuvres, and the same ice cold.

She tapped a few keys, frowning, until – _aha_ – reaching down to screw in a loose connection under the display table. The comms popped up. Natalya smirked in satisfaction and patted Ivan’s shoulder. He grimaced, already tapping in a number. The holo appeared over the dash, the blue words _CALLING: VASH ZWINGLI_ floating in midair. Ivan flicked the edge of “Calling” with his index finger and the words spun. The canned melody of a ringtone started to play, starting soft and getting louder, and the whole crew breathed a sigh of relief. So the number they’d gotten off Jones was good then.

Natalya retreated towards Lili Zwingli. Huddled at the back of the controls deck, she watched the holo with narrowed eyes.

The Zwingli girl was pretty. Blue eyes, pale gold skin, yellow hair cut short. The sort of folksy good looks that were only socially acceptable in period drama. She didn’t look like a genetically modified rich kid, more like a milkmaid. Even her dress was relatively simple – a satiny pink with a fancy brocade pattern that shimmered with wires.

Once she noticed Natalya was looking at her, she raised her eyebrows. Feeling suddenly awkward, Natalya averted her eyes.

Vash Zwingli had appeared on the holo.

“How did you get this number?”

“Not important,” Ivan said pleasantly. (Of course they wouldn’t sell out Ivan’s maybe-kinda-sorta boyfriend. Natalya stifled a sigh.) “We have something that might interest you.”

Zwingli looked at his watch. He was exactly the man they’d seen on TV, from his immaculate golden hair right down to the emerald lapels of his dark green suit. “You’ll have to excuse me, _Braginsky-1-0951_.” Ivan didn’t flinch. “I’m a busy man.” He moved to close the screen.

“Your sister?” It was Katyusha who spoke, so quickly and sharply it couldn’t be missed.

Slowly, carefully, Zwingli lowered his hand. He moved his mouth, but no words came out. Finally, “What.”

“We have your sister,” Katyusha said.

Zwingli managed a laugh. “I don’t believe it.”

“Believe it or not all you like,” Ivan said. “She is here.” His voice was harsh, accent thicker than usual. Natalya bit her lip in sympathy. As an Arlovskaya model 17, she knew how it felt to have your past dragged into your future.

Zwingli took a breath, reaching out of the frame for what turned out to be a teacup. He took a sip. The cup shook in his hand. Natalya, still hidden at the back of the room, resisted the urge to roll her eyes. The banker wasn’t fooling anyone. At this point, the deal was only a matter of time. The seconds ticked by in the upper left hand corner of her pupils. _2:17, 2:18, 2:19…_ They had at least 3 more minutes before Zwingli locked onto their coordinates. She stared at the holo above the dash. _Make them count._

Vash put the cup back down. “You do realize I’m going to need some proof.”

They were almost out of time and Ivan was out of patience. He slammed his palms on the dash and stood up. Lili was only two, maybe three paces away. It took the ex-soldier barely an instant to bridge the distance and even less to drag her forwards and point a gun at her head.

Something lurched in Natalya’s chest. In the shimmering holo, Zwingli froze. Suddenly he looked a lot more dangerous.

“This is simple.” She was surprised to find the voice, clear and incisive, was hers. “We hand over the girl and you hand over the money. 4 million units, in cash.”

Vash muttered something – German, probably. His eyes sought his sister’s. “Name the place.”

 

**(iv.) with your face all made up (living on a screen)**

The woman next to Ivan pulled Lili to her feet and escorted her to a tiny room on the second deck. Her joints creaked as she moved, bronze under her pale skin, and she flashed Lili an apologetic smile. More of a grimace. She deposited Lili on the floor and moved to go.

Lili caught her wrist. “Wait –”

The woman turned around. She was more thickset than Natalya, hair and skin a little darker – eyes a blank white devoid of any pupils. Not made for looking pretty. When she tilted her head the microchips behind her eyes glinted. She patted Lili’s shoulder. “You can call me Katyusha.”

“Katyusha, what –”

The cyborg stepped forward, but something made her pause. Her eyes flicked back and forth. Finally, she smiled distractedly. “You will be fine. OK?”

Lili could only watch as she closed the door behind her. And then she was alone.

Oh God. Alone.

_“Liebling, Vash is coming to visit today. They’ll take photos. Oh! You’ve messed up your arm again. We paid 600 units for that garnet, Lili!”_

_She couldn’t stop rubbing her arm. Her mother said gemstone insets were ‘all the rage’ at court, but all Lili could figure was that surgery was awful and once you got ‘em, they caught on your shirts and itched relentlessly and when you rubbed them, they bled. “But it hurts…”_

_“Shh. Just think how lovely you’ll look!”_

___

_“Is this any way for a fullblooded human to act? We paid good money for your genes. There’s nothing wrong with you!” Her father watched her from his towering height. “So go on. What’s your excuse for these grades. Go ahead and tell me.”_

___

_“What special day?”_

_“Don’t tell me you’ve forgotten, Friedrich. The pageant. Now, what do you think, magenta or aquamarine? Come on, hurry up, it doesn’t matter that much – these dyes wear off in a week or so, it’s not the permanent kind – and they’ll be taking photos – ”_

___

_She wouldn’t have left if she hadn’t gotten hit, Lili told herself as she crept down the stairs at 2300. Her magenta-dyed hands stained the white banister. Really she wouldn’t. She knew – she was mostly sure – that hitting was wrong, right? Maybe everything her parents had ever done was wrong. (She was only 10 sols old and she didn’t want to consider if everything about her was wrong instead.) But Vash had said “come see me if you need anything” and Vash lived in a fancy apartment on Europa and Vash was already nearly done with his degree and he was, what was it, ‘enterprising’, and…_

_If she’d been pretty enough to win that stupid pageant, none of this would’ve happened._

“No, no, wait –“

_The elevator down to Sofia’s crust was a tiny metal box – rusty and smeared with graffiti. One vortex of the little cube had rusted clean away, leaving a tiny palm-sized piece of sky where the corner of the floor should have been._

_“Rich girl, what d’you think you’re doing?”_

_And then the Metro to Europa in the same night._

_“Isn’t that Zwingli’s daughter?”_

_And then the sidewalk in Geneva that stretched on to infinity, and the pack of chips in the gutter, and then it rained, and her feet were bleeding, but she didn’t notice, because they were magenta too –_

Lili snapped out of it.

No. No. She stared at the rusted door. This wasn’t like that, she wasn’t on her own. Vash would get her out of this. He always had. He knew she was here and he would get her out of this.

If not, she’d just have to do it herself.

**(v.) ain’t no rest for the wicked**

“No.” Katyusha was already shaking her head. “Absolutely not.”

Well, Natalya had anticipated some resistance.

Ivan stayed off to the side, considering. She chose that moment to strike. “I am the only one he doesn’t have face rec on.”

Ivan pressed his lips together.

“Brother.”

He looked at the floor. Finally: “…she is right.”

_Yes, I am._

Katyusha looked outraged. “You cannot be seriously considering –”

Natalya’s heart whirred faster. She made a show of inspecting her fingernails. The plastic nails where her pale-skin fingers ended were getting dirty again. Really, who thought opaque white would be a good idea? Even if it did make the dancers’ hands look brighter on stage. _Arlovskaya-17-2934_.

They _had_ to give her this job.

“She is right,” Ivan said again. He didn't look at Katyusha. With one hand, he brought up the footage from the holo call – this time facing the three of them, not Vash Zwingli. "Natalya was behind that beam at the back of control room, next to the Zwingli girl. And then, see.” He fast forwarded. "When she appears, it's dark. Blurry. Too far away to get a face rec, even with Zwingli's software." Ivan's accent was thick, a sure sign of him being distracted. "She has a good point. It's… something I should have considered."

Natalya shrugged. _And if he can't track you, he’ll already have put a bounty on your heads._

Ivan sucked in a long breath. "They’ll be searching for us anywhere from the Edge to the Capitol."

Katyusha had that look again, the why-am-I-the-only-sane-one-here look. “Vanya, she’s barely 20 sols old.”

 _19, actually._ “I worked with you for 4 of them,” Natalya snapped. There was hardly anything she hated more than being treated like a child. Cyborgs didn’t ever _get_ the chance to be children, or had they forgotten? “Brother, you know I’m capable…” She trailed off, feeling the gears in her chest heat up. At least the flush wouldn’t show on her face.

Ivan looked at Katyusha. His eyes, blank except for wide dark pupils (Designed for maximum detail at a long range. His left acted as a sniper’s scope.) somehow managed to look imploring.

Katyusha relented, grimacing. “If you’re sure.” She bit her lip. “Take the pod. If he does his research, he’ll find the _Rusalka_. No, don’t worry about us. We’ll be fine.” A smile, thin with worry. “Be careful.”

 

**(vi.) a box just for wishes (and dreams that had never come true)**

“All that food?”

Right on cue, Natalya turned around. “How much food did you think we would need for a trip to Asteroid –” She stopped mid-sentence, glaring. “Never mind.”

Asteroid 4000015, Lili thought, smiling. So they were still trying to keep it a secret. Ridiculous.

She was watching Natalya ‘prepare Meal 1’ on their first morning in the pod. Morning being an objective term. Outside the three windows, the galaxy was as dark as ever, glittering with stars. They only really knew it was morning because of the horrifying screeching noise the pod’s autopilot (apparently an AI named General Winter?) emitted promptly at 0600.

“Shut up, shut up, shut up,” Natalya had mumbled from her position on the lower bunk. She kicked at the screens uselessly from her bundle of blankets. “Shut up.”

When Lili made her way down the ladder to tap ‘Notification received’, Natalya peered out at her and said, in a tone of grim resignation, “He does that every morning.”

From that moment onwards, Lili was convinced that her sexy, ‘aura of danger’ kidnapper was actually just an angry kitten trapped in the body of a dancer-model cyborg. Maybe this belief was naïve – even dangerously so. But no matter how many times she tried to shake it, it stayed rooted firmly in place.

Natalya bent down to cut open the box of milk packets. Lili hovered nearby, fighting the urge to help. She was still dressed in the undershirt and petticoats of her pink dress – now laid out across the narrow top bunk. A sharp contrast to Natalya’s jeans and top. Which, speaking of. She looked like a star in a classic movie. (1900s Earth, maybe.) Her hair was a mess, though. As far as Lili knew, she hadn’t done anything to tame it since she’d woken up: just wrapped a loop around so the tangles were confined to a loose bun.

Lili had always cut her hair short.

Startled, she caught the 500g milk packet flung her way. Natalya held the corner of hers between her teeth as she rummaged through the boxes.

Watching her, Lili hid a sudden, irrepressible smile.

“ _Chort vazmi!_ If they forgot the chocolate, I –”

 

**(vii.) once upon a december, or heroic bsod**

It happened on the third day of the journey. Natalya didn’t know what set it off.

_It happened before sol 1 of Natalya’s life._

She never did though. The organs, mechanical or not, in her chest had been acting funny lately, so maybe that had something to do with it.

_It was relatively simple. Just like everything else in the galaxy. Selfishness, money, and a little engineering._

_

Arlovskaya-17-2934. Born in the petri dish between Arlovskaya-17-2933’s and Arlovskaya-17-2935’s. The three thousand Arlovskaya-17 units have the same hair (237 R, 230 G, 189 B: Platinum Blonde) and eyes (135 R, 004 G, 188 B: Nebula Violet). Cyborgs allowed for some genetic variation from the model – unlike droids – and so 2934 had a few flaws, most notably more prominent cheekbones, lesser flexibility, and easily tangled hair –

 _The tank was too small. Filled with liquid nutrition, maybe, but_ too small _. In no time at all she was pressing against the clear wall at the front. Through the thick glass, figures were walking around – mostly dressed in white. She couldn’t make any noise that stood out among the watery hum of the row of tanks and the strange, distorted voices of the people outside. Her throat ached._

___

All Arlovskaya-17 units were fully grown in 3 sols, at which point they were transferred to Bolshoi Co on Zorya for training.

Not EuropaDance, where the principal dancers were manufactured: (a.) it was not considered financially feasible, since the Arlovskaya-17 line was designated as ensemble dancers and (b.) since the units doubled as ensemble figure skaters. Bolshoi Co included a section for skating.

_The woman’s mouth was moving and sounds were coming out. 2934 wondered if she could do the same._

_She enunciated clearly: “Say after me. Tendu.”_

_What did she want? They only knew a few words. 2934 felt choked up. Finally she managed, “say after me tendu.” The 2900s all said variations of the same, at different times._

_The woman frowned._

_

The group had a relatively good success rate of 88%. At 10 sols, the Arlovskaya-17 units found acceptable were sent to Europa, the capital of the galaxy, to perform. The first for the 2900s was a production of ‘Ruslan and Ludmila’ at the Hub. The second was a production of ‘Archduke Franz Ferdinand’ at Diana Theatre. 2934, I’m sure you already know this.

_How was she supposed to fit these into skates?_

_Her feet were bleeding again. The hard plastic of her toes chafed at the flesh of her feet every time she went en pointe and no matter how many bandages she wrapped them with, they stained her tights. When they danced ‘Romanovs’ the blood seeped through to even the satin “points” that were supposed to look like shoes, and she got pulled offstage midact to be replaced with 2995._

_The ensemble manager slapped her and said “Didn’t I tell you to bandage them?”_

_Now 2934 tasted blood as well. She nodded. (She wanted to scream DESIGN ERROR.)_

___

The second time the 2900s performed ‘The Last of the Romanovs’ for the court was the first and only time they worked with principal dancer Vasileva-81175-01, stage name Natalya Astakhova.

Why did you steal her name?

_

_It was nearly midnight when 2935 showed her a crumpled playbill, red background captioned ‘Swan Lake: A new take on the Earth classic.’ “Look, four, it’s Alexeyev. Gotta love his hair.”_

_2934 shrugged. “He’s a boy.”_

_2935 smirked. “Your point?”_

_She really liked 2935, but she’d already perfected cold aloofness, so. 2934 shrugged, so casually it’d put the Queen to shame. “I prefer Astakhova.”_

_“She is pretty cute.”_

___

_“Five…” Her voice was barely audible in the darkness. Everything hurt._

_In a moment, 2935 was bending over her, face a mask of concern. “What is it? Do you need more painkillers?”_

_That was it; that was what she meant to ask. But she opened her mouth and this was what came out: “What name do you think you’d pick if you were human?”_

___

Why did you steal her name, Arlovskaya-17-2934?

_

_Her family broke into the facility when she was 15 sols old. (Literally. The front of the building was torn off by a grenade.) Ivan was wielding a gun and Katyusha a canister of gasoline. They weren’t related by blood. Katyusha told the Arlovskaya-2900s that the facility had “violated human rights regulations” and that they should leave if they valued their lives._

_2934 wanted to leave with them more than she’d ever wanted anything in her life._

_She rushed the 2900s out the gap left by the explosion. She said goodbye to 2935. She lied to the ensemble manager about what had happened and then she shot him._

_She left with Ivan and Katyusha._

___

Why did you steal her name, Arlovskaya-17-2934? – Arlovskaya model 17 number 2934, present yourself for questioning. You are being charged with petty theft, murder, and high treason. You are property of the facility – You are property of the facility – It is the facility that has to answer for your misdeeds. Facility. 135 R, 004 G, 188 B: Nebula Violet. Allow for some genetic variation. Bolshoi Co on Zorya – success rate of 88%. We miss you, 2934. Why won’t you come back? – Stage name: Natalya Astakhova. More quickly now, like this, _tohn-_ du. Relevé. Figure eight. Figure eight. The three thousand Arlovskaya-17 units –

 

**(viii.) nothing but the smell of her perfume**

It took Lili a minute to realize something was wrong.

She’d gotten up to adjust the heating – the pod was freezing – when she noticed her kidnapper wasn’t breathing.

That shouldn’t have bothered her; breathing was optional for most cyborgs, anyway. But Natalya was rigid, frozen in her awkwardly sprawled position beneath a tangle of blankets. And Lili was sure she’d heard her breathing the night before.

She approached cautiously (living with Vash had taught her to avoid startling people in their sleep), trying to tell herself that Natalya was probably fine. After all, she barely knew her. Maybe –

Natalya’s hand was ice cold.

Lili took a few deep breaths. She had to get herself under control. There was no reason to panic. Lili tried to warm up her palms to minimize the shock before she placed one hand over Natalya’s heart. Her chest was feverishly hot, so much that Lili almost recoiled.

Natalya’s eyelids fluttered. “What –”

Lili sank down onto the cot next to her. “Are you okay?”

Her eyes were locked open now in an unfocused stare, text scrolling across the irises, too fast and small for Lili to make out. She wrapped an arm around Natalya’s shoulders, trying to get her to meet her eyes. “What’s wrong?” Lili pulled her closer. “Natalya!”

Finally Natalya took a breath. And then another. And another. She wouldn’t look at Lili. She turned away and hid her face where Lili’s shoulder met the thin mattress.

Lili realized with a jolt that she was crying.

 

**(iv.) dumb losers in love**

“I’ll be fine.” She’d try to grease her joints or something. “It’s just a glitch. Ever since I left, it happens once in a while.” Natalya glanced back to see Lili’s expression.

She looked too understanding. “Uh huh.”

Natalya studied the dried marshmallows in her hot chocolate. Her heart was still erratic. “We should get you out of those clothes.”

Lili blushed. _Heavily._

Natalya pressed her lips together and suppressed her frustration – along with the ridiculously inappropriate desire to laugh. Finally she mumbled, “You know that’s not what –”

Lili’s shoulders – dotted with little diamond-shaped scars – started shaking with laughter. “Ich weiss es nicht.”

“I meant that you’ve been wearing the same petticoat thing for three days! Excuse me for trying to be nice to you!”

“What else would I wear?” Lili looked confused, then smug. “You should’ve thought of this before. It’s not very professional.”

“Shut up.”

And that is the story of how Lili Zwingli, the sister of the richest man in the galaxy, ended up cooking dinner for Natalya (“I bake at home for Vash all the time”) _while wearing her BI-2 hoodie._

Natalya began to realize she was in too deep.

 

**(x.) moya lyubov (Mоя Любвоь)**

Natalya had apparently decided it was okay if Lili took the seat next to her at the controls.

It was late. 2355, according to the dash. It was still cold. Lili had her bare feet tucked under her. Natalya’s sweatpants were so long on her she’d had to roll them up at the ends. She felt comfortably sleepy. Through the glass hull, the star-studded darkness of the galaxy spread out ahead and around them.

Natalya’s sock feet were propped up on the dash. She idly twirled a pen in one hand, eyes drifting from the navigation screens to the stars outside and back again. She seemed jittery. Lili wasn’t sure when she was going to set the pod on autopilot and finally crash. Not anytime soon, if her 8 cups of coffee were anything to go by. Lili stifled a yawn. Maybe Natalya was planning on never sleeping again.

The radio – on some Russian-language station – started a new song and Natalya suddenly snorted. Lili turned towards her in confusion. “What is it?”

Natalya fidgeted. “That’s Bi-2.”

“Huh?”

She reached out to touch Lili’s sleeve, then seemed to think better of it. “The sweatshirt you’re wearing.”

Lili looked down at the borrowed hoodie. “Oh. Are they Russian?”

“Belarusian,” Natalya said. She looked embarrassed that she knew all this useless Earth trivia. “From the 1980s.”

“Nice. Retro.” Lili wanted to say, _you belong in a ‘60s movie, onscreen as an agent or an activist._

The stars beyond the glass glittered. Natalya turned to her and smiled.

(It was, Lili reflected faintly, the first time she’d ever seen her smile.)

Her eyes flicked up to meet Natalya’s purple ones. Funny. She’d never noticed Natalya’s eyelashes were that particular shade of silver-grey, or how well they set off her bright, blue-violet irises, or…

Natalya’s pupils were completely devoid of text.

They moved towards each other at the same time, almost instinctively. Natalya’s arm was suddenly around Lili’s shoulders. She bit her lip. “Zwingli – _Lili…”_

Lili leaned in, tilted her head to the side, and –

_EMERGENCY CALL: 8746 The Rusalka_

“What?”

The holo popped up above the dash, glowing blue.

Cursing under her breath, Natalya pushed Lili out of the screen. “Ivan. Uh.”

 

**(xi.) are we there yet**

It was barely morning when Asteroid 4000015 appeared in Natalya’s sights.

Lili was still asleep. When Natalya finally closed the conversation with Ivan (with bonus appearances from Katyusha), she’d already gone up to bed.

Natalya took a deep breath and focused the pod’s course at a tangent to the asteroid’s surface. She forgot to breathe as she ran the obligatory thermal scan. No sign of life. 4000015 was safe.

Natalya looked at the little dot that signified the asteroid’s coordinates on her dash. Her lungs felt like they were deflating. Deliberately, she inhaled again. Maybe the extra oxygen would give her the power she needed to overcome the horrible, crippling lethargy (sorrow) already sinking into her bones.

So this was it.

 

**(xii.) and well she knows (i love the ground whereon she goes)**

Asteroid 4000015 had barely any atmosphere. Lili was forced to wear a ridiculous-looking spacesuit Natalya assured her wasn’t outdated. Underneath she was still wearing Natalya’s hoodie over her old pink dress. Natalya’d had a funny look on her face when Lili appeared on deck wearing it this morning. _Keep it._

The surface of 4000015 was grey rock, so small you could see the roundness of the horizon, pocked with craters. It felt odd under her boots after the smooth floor of the pod. In any case, it was always strange to go from artificial to real gravity. Lili felt like she was floating.

Behind her, Natalya clambered down from the pod’s hatch. She wore yet another pair of dark jeans and the baggy jacket she’d claimed she didn’t need. She wasn’t breathing either, but she was running a high gear to make up for it; her cheeks were almost flushed. A laser pistol was on display at her belt. Lili was sure there was another one in a shoulder holster, which was probably what had finally convinced her to wear the jacket.

(“Precautions,” Natalya’d said when Lili raised an eyebrow. She wouldn’t look at her. “I ran a thermal scan but it’s good to be sure.”)

Natalya strode up to stand beside her. Her lips moved. Her voice came through the speakers in Lili’s helmet a few seconds later: “So this is it then.”

 _No._ Lili didn’t want to believe it. _Wait._

With her gloved, clumsy hands, she began to unfasten the helmet. She placed it carefully on the rocky ground and straightened, already feeling the surface of her skin burning with frost _. These days, without implants, humans could manage only a few minutes without atmosphere. 8 tops._

Natalya’s lovely eyes widened. Lili kissed her.

 

**(xiii.) …**

Lili was kissing her.

_Lili was kissing her?!_

Natalya’s heart was whirring so fast she felt dizzy. One of Lili’s arms was looped around her neck, the other under her shoulders, pulling her closer. Natalya accepted, tilting her head to the side to press into Lili’s mouth. Lili pulled back a little, scraping her teeth on Natalya’s bottom lip, and Natalya heard herself make an involuntary sound of protest before she was kissing her back, Lili’s fingers tangled in her hair.

 

**(xiv.) don’t touch my girl**

_STEP AWAY_. The mechanical voice crackled faintly through the thin atmosphere. Lili barely heard it.

The sound of a gun cocking jerked her out of the haze _. STEP AWAY_.

Natalya broke the kiss, arm still around Lili’s waist. “The fuck –?”

The droids shot first and asked questions later.

(High tech. Mostly white plastic. Frictionless gears. They’d have an outrageously low heat footprint, if any. Lili cursed out loud. Vash could never learn to play by the rules.)

Natalya slumped against her. Lili dove for her helmet, dodging more bullets. It snapped into place with a series of clicks. Her breathing resounded heavily in the glass. Red stained the white suit where she held Natalya. _Oh God._ Lili didn’t have time to panic. The pistol was still strapped at Natalya’s hip.

“Drop the guns!” Lili’s voice was thinner than she’d like it to be. She took a deep breath, telling herself to relax. _Guns_. She knew guns. _Oh, God, Natalya –_

The droids’ heads swivelled in confusion and she took advantage of the moment to draw the pistol up, aim, and fire.

The metal strip connecting the robotic arm to the body of the droid was maybe 1cm wide, barely visible in the dark hollow of the plastic-encased joint. The droid itself was 30 feet away.

Lili hit it.

The arm crashed to the ground in a puff of grey dust.

“ _Drop the guns,_ or I’ll shoot,” Lili hissed.

The droids dropped the guns. They turned back to each other, camera-eyes blinking and beeping. The ship they’d come on rolled up. Backup. Even through the spacesuit, Lili could feel the gears in Natalya’s chest turning, speeding up and slowing back down. Her own heart was beating too fast to count. She kept her eyes on the droids even as Natalya’s blood seeped into the dust.

The droids pushed forward a box. The contents glowed neon, tiny squares. Millions of units.

“I don’t want the units.” Lili’s voice came dangerously close to cracking. She brandished the gun. “Hand over your medical supplies.”

 

**(xv.) this town ain’t big enough for both of us**

When Natalya opened her eyes, she was lying in her bed on the pod, wrapped in blankets. The screen on the wall at her feet read _AUTOPILOT ESTD – General Winter._

It was as if nothing had ever happened.

She tried to prop herself up. Immediately, a wave of pain forced her back down. Natalya pressed a hand to her side, overwhelmed.

So she hadn’t imagined it. She closed her eyes again and forced herself to take a few breaths. Oxygen rushed in, flooding her with extra energy – making her head spin. She braced her elbows underneath her and tried to get up again.

Footsteps rushed along the corridor. Natalya twisted to look and collapsed back onto the cot, shaking.

Lili’s face appeared over her. She squeezed Natalya’s hand. “Relax.”

Natalya blinked. “What happened?”

“Ambush.” Lili bit her lip. “You remember?”

“Yes.” Natalya managed a thin smile. “You’re pretty badass.”

Lili blushed. Natalya closed her eyes.

“Hey, are you still with me? Natalya?”

“Yes.”

A strange beeping sound. Text scrolled across Natalya’s eyelids. _Translating droid type 944… GO NOW._

“A few more minutes,” Lili said. Her tone brooked no argument. She stroked Natalya’s hair. “Natalya.”

“Here.”

“I have to go.”

Natalya started up again. “The coordinates for the _Rusalka_ –”

“Already got them.”

She sank back down into her pillow.

“So this is it, then.” The words, thrumming in her chest, were so quiet Lili could barely hear them.

Silence. “Not quite.” Lili scrawled something on a square of paper and stuck it to the dash. She squeezed Natalya’s hand again. “Keep in touch.”

 

**(xvi.) AND SO YOU’RE BACK, FROM OUTER SPACE**

Admittedly, it was a little surprising to see the Prime Minister of Europa, feminist and egalitarian icon, sneaking out of her own mansion at 0100. Or it would’ve been if you weren’t Vash Zwingli, intergalactically-renowned banker and businessman, and her older brother.

Lili made her way down the stairs, trying to be quiet, and padded across the living room.

What was the cause for all this secrecy? Unfortunately, Vash knew all too well.

A woman in a black wool coat, instantly recognizable as the co-leader of the SR (otherwise known as the cyborg who’d taken Bolshoi Co to court and won), leaned against the railing of the balcony, pale hair tossed over one shoulder. Her eyelashes were so dark Vash could see them all the way from his office. (She was also smoking a cigarette. Vash made a mental note to google if cancer risk from nicotine could be transmitted through kissing. Didn’t it yellow teeth or something? Lili was probably in danger.)

Lili unlocked the sliding door and slipped outside. They exchanged a few words, breath white in the freezing air. Vash caught something about ‘anniversary’ before the door closed. They kissed.

So Lili would continue to make her bad choices. Vash reluctantly put his gun away and turned to go back to work.

(Later, when the two climbed up the stairs, giggling like teenagers, and _someone’s_ underwear was found in between the couch cushions the next day, nearly causing a galaxy-wide scandal, Vash would claim total ignorance. When they got married the next year, actually causing a galaxy-wide scandal (and the dawn of a new political era) Vash would only sigh.)

 

**Author's Note:**

> \- SR stands for Socialist Republic (think Belarusian SSR) - I couldn’t resist, sorry!  
> \- The Bolshoi Ballet is a super-famous Russian ballet academy/company that was, believe it or not, founded in 1776. I’m also sorry about this. (EuropaDance, on the other hand, doesn’t exist in any form or fashion.)  
> \- Romeo and Juliet is a ballet and Ruslan and Ludmila is a Russian folktale that’s now an opera, but in this AU became a ballet eventually. The other “ballets” referenced, ‘Archduke Franz Ferdinand’ and ‘The Last of the Romanovs’ are pretty obviously history stuff, which in this AU eventually got dramatized as ballets. I probably could’ve thought of better events to make ballets (further apart in history for one!) but…  
> \- In this AU, Russia’s a cyborg designed for the military, Ukraine’s in textiles (w/ customer service), and America’s a human outlaw/hacker. General Winter is the AI of the Rus siblings’ ship. I don’t think I mentioned any others, so you can imagine the rest yourself! Also, cyborgs are part-human, part-machine and droids are fully mechanical, and humans – esp. the rich ones – have been genetically modified to be prettier/healthier/can survive longer without air than those in our time.  
> \- If you think about this too hard, you’ll find about 5 million plot holes. DON’T THINK ABOUT IT TOO HARD.  
> \- Rusalka, the name of Natalya & Co’s ship, is a Slavic water nymph – think mermaid but without the tail. Natalya, Ivan, and Katyusha are well aware of this, I’m sure, because they’re useless nerds.  
> \- Dash is dashboard and holo is hologram comms system…  
> \- Bi-2 is a Belarusian group that started out in the 80s. They live and perform in Russia atm and songs are typically in Russian.  
> \- Brief translations: Scheisse – Shit (German), Chort vazmi – Damn it (Belarusian – literally something like “to the devil with it”)
> 
> this fic is rebloggable at http://meadowlarkx.tumblr.com/post/135906616478/a-different-dimension-or-misadventures-in-space


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